As many of you now know, my sweet darling husband actually forgot my birthday. For a good hour on Tuesday morning, he went about his business, clearly oblivious to the importance of the day’s date. Until I reminded him.
What followed was a tearful rehashing of all of the other times he’s blown off important days like Valentine’s Day, my birthday, our anniversary, and even, for God’s sake, Christmas. We’ve been together 11 years. By now one would think that he’s learned that when he doesn’t do something even small and thoughtful to mark the occasion, there will be trouble.
I must say, despite the well-meaning efforts of all of you who commented, my boss, my dear friends, my mother (who may have spoiled me for life by making my birthdays special from the day I turned 1), I spent the day in a sulking, threatening funk. I went to work where there were balloons waiting for me, and though they cheered me up all I could think about was that Stewart better have something really awesome waiting for me at home to make up for his gaffe. At the same time, I knew that whatever he came up with would fall short of those demands. After all, this is the man who rolled over one Christmas Eve morning (on a Sunday!) and said “What do you want for Christmas?”
So after I picked up the kids, who greeted me at daycare with a rendition of “Happy Birthday” and a special hand-decorated bouquet of flowers (this lifted my spirits a great deal – I may focus my efforts on the next generation), we all came home to…? Nothing. Not even a super clean house. Okay, I thought, when he gets home, there’d better be something really awesome.
At 7:15 he rolled in to the usual chorus of “Da-da!” and much rejoicing among the children. In his hands he had 1. Chocolate decadence cake: many many versions of chocolate, including ice cream, fashioned into a pie. 2. A chocolate cake mix, for us to bake a cake together, because that is all I really asked for on several occasions, was for him to make a cake for me with the kids. and 3. A gift certificate for a massage at The Fancy Local Spa which I sometimes refer to as Heaven.
Yes, readers. Chocolate and a massage. It seems like a typical male response to a typical male screwup. I guess I have to accept it for now, because that is how he is. In many other ways he is a wonderful man and a good husband. But I won’t give up on this because a) I work my ass off for this family and yes I deserve not only Mother’s Day but also A Great Birthday and b) I want my children to grow up knowing that Mommy’s birthday is a Special Occasion.
So here’s how to contact him. Send him a reminder next September 20th, won’t you?
P.S. I know that my father, who is now the Supreme Overlord of the company, is going to be pissed that I suggested you flood the in-box with birthday reminders and subtle hints to buy me a frigging card, at least. I’m hoping that this adorable video will distract him from that.